


Prophet Margins

by Paper0wl



Series: Rod and Shield [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e09 The Real Ghostbusters, Gen, The Winchester Gospels, ghost writers, more codename puns, not-human truce, still a security breach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 22:35:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1619435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paper0wl/pseuds/Paper0wl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You said there was near-zero circulation!”<br/>“We appear to have underestimated the cult appeal.”</p>
<p>The <em>Supernatural</em> books have very determined fans. SHIELD still isn't happy about that. Kyria is convinced her life is either a cosmic joke or karmic penance. Either way, she's not happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prophet Margins

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, having blasted the Supernatural season arcs to atomic dust, my muse is determined to drag in every minor recurring character ever killed off by the writers.
> 
> And to think I was worried that without the major plotlines, the Supernatural elements would get buried by Marvel stuff . . . yeah, that's clearly not happening.

As one of the few who knew Kyria had a secret department that dealt in problems that weren’t quite human, Phil Coulson relayed messages far more often than his experience and clearance levels would suggest. 

Yet another tidbit that fed the rumor-mongers that seemed to have grown exponentially since NINJAT went off the books. 

Ignoring the persistent rumors that she kept a host of ninjas in her closet and willingly spent too much time with the Black Widow to be human, Kyria was officially the Director’s problem-solver. Apart from her assistant-secretary (rumored to have been the product of some dark, unholy union – even as Beth, Bela had attitude problems, what could she say?) no one quite knew where she fit into the command hierarchy. She answered to the director and was at least equal to Coulson. Popular belief was that she had her own agenda and something on Fury to make him agree to it. Fury was clearly an evil cyborg so she couldn’t possibly be his lover, or his daughter (unless she was made in the same lab as him?), but she had a deft hand with technology, so maybe she reprogrammed him or something. 

Beth thought that for super-spies, SHIELD employed some rather stupid people. 

Kyria agreed. 

Coulson didn’t say anything, but he blinked in a manner his close friends understood was amused agreement. 

In the six months since NINJAT was erased from history, most of Coulson’s messages, few as they had been, were about the numerous people under clandestine SHIELD surveillance. Such surveillance was markedly difficult when the watchers didn’t know why they were watching or what they were watching for. 

(There had been a minor incident a few days into the Great Ninja Disappearing Act involving a close call with a couple of ghouls in Minnesota that ended with two confused agents who never got answers and an awkward family reunion. Kyria knew all about awkward family reunions and that one was quite possibly worse than the one involving her homicidal uncle.) 

On what had started out as a normal day, Coulson brought word on a different person of interest. 

“Please tell me this is a joke,” Kyria said with a tired kind of horror. When had _this_ become her normal? 

“I would never joke about a potential breach of this magnitude.” 

“You said there was near-zero circulation!” 

“We appear to have underestimated the cult appeal.” 

“You can’t tell me Chuck agreed to this!” 

“He’s the one who alerted us to the problem.” 

“Isn’t there anything SHIELD can do?” 

“Thus far we have been unsuccessful at preventing the convention from moving forward and it is unlikely future attempts will have a higher rate of success.” Coulson looked sour about that fact. It didn’t make Kyria feel better. “Without the ability to bring the full weight of the agency down, it is highly doubtful we will be able to prevent a _Supernatural_ convention. As none of our full names or activities appear in the books, and the department referenced is reputedly fictional, we cannot make a case for it being a legitimate security concern without spilling the beans. 

She made a gurgling, groaning noise and resisted the urge to bury her face in her arms. How was this her life? Was this her punishment for being born Morningstar? She was almost willing to take her chances with her homicidal family members instead. 

“As it stands, the Director recommends we look into ghost writers.” 

Her first confused thought was ghosts of writers and she banged her head against her desk at the realization. 

***  


Charlie guiltily confessed to having read the books when she approached her and Ash about putting out word on the hunter network about ghost writers ( _not_ the kind that led to salt-and-burns). 

Kyria gave the hacker a betrayed look. 

Two weeks later, after no doubt making a good many hunters laugh, Kyria was faced with the annoying fact that writers weren’t the type to encounter the supernatural, or survive such at any rate. The closest anyone could recommend was a few university professors, the most knowledgeable and best choice being a Medieval Studies professor in San Francisco. 

As it wasn’t a high performance mission, Kyria was required by bring a partner. Unfortunately, her preferred support of Coulson, Barton, and/or Romanoff was called away by a mission in Europe. And, yes, for an agent without an assigned team, partner, whatever, she showed blatant favoritism by always opting for a member of Strike Team Delta, but aside from the fact there the pool of candidates in the know about Morningstar was incredibly small, she got along best with Barton and Romanoff. Probably because when one of them got morose the other two could trot out stories of why _their_ life clearly sucked more. When Coulson was around, he apparently went temporarily deaf, because less than half the stuff they talked about could be found in SHIELD files. 

There weren’t many Kyria trusted that much. 

Contract or no, she didn’t trust Beth to watch her back, and it was a moot point anyway because Beth had to stay in the Hub to handle normal bureaucratic, government spy agencies things and to be on call for emergencies. Ash and Charlie weren’t field agents and showed no inclination of changing that status anytime soon. Which really just left the Stage Show. 

Nothing against the Stage Show, but for all that their recent years had been shaped by the repercussions of Azazel marking them as infants, they had had relatively normal lives for the most of their lives. Kyria’s “normal” involved running from demons and worrying about angels, even from the equivalent of a house in the suburbs. So the three of them worked on reconstructing something resembling a demon-free life and Kyria swallowed down alternating waves of guilt and envy every time she dealt with them. 

Andy, going by the moniker “Simon”, had been convinced to do something with his life (after the drug rehab mandated by SHIELD) and was studying Psychology. Fury wanted to keep him around for tricky interrogations, so Andy wanted to know more than just what his power could tell him. And SHIELD was willing to pay for him to go to college to be more useful to them, so it was really a win-win scenario. 

Lily, saddled with the codename of “Dante” in reference to her unfortunate ability, was doing much better these days, having mastered the knack of turning her power _off_. She flat out refused to let SHIELD turn her into an assassin and was instead going to medical school. 

Jake, nicknamed “Steel” for his strength, was good back-up for hunts, and a rather outstanding agent despite his efforts at blending in. 

Andy still had the air of a care-free stoner and Jake still gave off a distinctly _Army_ vibe, neither of which were quite what recruiting a would-be ghost writer to not write about all their lives called for, so Kyria called up Lily to accompany her instead. 

When Dr. Eleanor Visyak opened her door, she and Kyria had a mutual stare-off while Lily stood there shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. At such point blank range, Kyria had absolutely no difficulty identifying the good professor as being of the Purgatory-monster variety. 

Still. She’d gotten her name from _hunters_ , from _Bobby_ , and had heard nothing but how helpful the woman was with information and research, so she probably wasn’t of the _humans-are-below-me-and-I-will-kill-them-all_ variety. 

Taking a calculated risk, Kyria thinned her personal wards just enough to let “Eleanor” see what she was. She could (and _had_ ) built and held her wards while more-than-half-dead with wounds and exhaustion; creating a hole just big enough to be seen at close range was nothing. 

“When Bobby called to tell me someone was coming, I certainly didn’t expect this,” Eleanor said, her mild tone giving lie to the way her shoulders unconsciously stiffened. 

“Well, I was expecting a human myself, so the feeling’s mutual,” Kyria offered, the words a mix of reassurance and threat. _I won’t start anything, but I’ll give back as good as I’ve got._

Lily froze. “Um. She’s not human?” 

“No, I’m not,” Eleanor admitted. “But I’ve lived here long enough that I have no desire to do anything to jeopardize my place among them,” she said with a hint of challenge in her voice and an arched expression aimed at Kyria, testing the bounds of the offered truce. 

Kyria shrugged, deliberately staying relaxed although the mere thought of Morningstar – either of the two, really – was enough to put her back up. “I don’t have a problem with anyone who doesn’t cause a problem,” Kyria replied. “The people I work with know who and what I am. It’s not common knowledge though.” 

The professor eyed the pair of supernatural government agents on her doorstep intently before stepping aside and letting them enter her house. Truce accepted, potential identity crisis averted. 

“So. I hear you’re looking for a writer?” 

Eleanor was vaguely amused by the notion of the Winchester brothers being unknowingly followed by a prophet, and decidedly less amused by the implication that they were “supposed to” be involved in the Apocalypse. Dr. Visyak was one of those like Gabriel who _liked_ living on earth and didn’t want anything to threaten that. Kyria assured her that they were doing everything they could to prevent the Apocalypse from coming to pass. 

SHIELD didn’t want Chuck to publish any more books, because even disregarding the invasion of privacy, the idea that their secrets could be out there in the open was enough to give Fury an apoplexy. (And should the WSC ever hear of it, heads would _roll_. The resulting arguments would probably be heard in _space_.) So Kyria was looking for someone good with writing who knew enough about the supernatural to write books in Chuck’s style _without_ actually writing the Winchesters’ (or anyone else’s) lives and did Eleanor know anyone who might be able to help? 

“Some of my students have extraordinary potential for writing, but none are aware of the existence of that world,” Eleanor said, raising an eyebrow. 

Kyria’s laugh was self-deprecating. “As far as I have been able to determine, there are no writers aware of the supernatural aside from Mr. Shurley. And I need to find an acceptable substitute before I succumb to nightmares about that convention that’s been scheduled for next month despite SHIELD’s best efforts.” 

“You have nightmares about people dressing up as you?” Eleanor asked with a straight face. 

Kyria groaned and buried her head in her arms. 

***  


It took some doing, but Dr. Visyak agreed to try her hand at writing. Kyria was greatly relieved and set about making introductions. 

“I know you can hear me, asshole,” she called up at the ceiling while Eleanor looked at her with curiosity and Chuck looked like he wanted to hide under a rock. Or a liquor bottle. “This is Dr. Eleanor Visyak. Yes, she’s from Purgatory. No, she won’t hurt the prophet, although I don’t think I’d blame her if she wanted to. She’s here because people – not SHIELD – want more _Supernatural_ books and anyone of concern doesn’t want those books to actually be about _them_. The prophet will write the Word, and Eleanor will turn it into something mass-marketable. Deal with it.” 

That led to an awkward conversation between a prophet, a monster, and the child of a fallen angel about tricksters, archangels, and bodyguards. 

***  


Someone somewhere had a sense of humor. 

In a convention crammed full of fake Sams, Deans, demons, clowns, and SHIELD agents, there was a pair of real hunters who were somewhat less than happy that people were dressing up as them, real SHIELD agents, and, oh yeah, real ghosts. As soon as she stepped foot on the property, Kyria could tell there were real ghosts on the move. 

It was probably a good thing Clint couldn’t make the convention. He never did like ghost hunting anyway. The Stage Show took the weekend off to visit, however, undeniably curious about seeing how their lives translated into meta-fiction. Those three and Kyria were here as their character selves, ostensibly to keep an eye on Chuck and potential security breaches. 

Signaling to Jake, she slipped away to a deserted upper floor in order to ruthlessly exorcise creepy child ghosts. The (not as) creepy lady appeared, nodded once, and faded away. 

The rest of the convention felt strange by comparison. 

Everyone there knew Kyria was Morningstar and no one worried because she wasn’t the only “Kyria” present. One of the others even had lightning armbands that looked like a custom made cross between a flashlight and a glowstick. 

The author Q&A was . . . eye-opening. Tortuous. Horrible. And vaguely amusing. 

Apparently, when Chuck and Eleanor sat down to work out a plan for the books, they decided to play “what if” with demons and angels. 

Kyria was more convinced than ever that her uncle was an asshole because some of the details Carver Edlund told his adoring fans were things he couldn’t have known about merely by being the scribe of the Winchesters’ lives. 

It was days like this that had Kyria convinced her entire life was a twisted penance for having been born Morningstar. 

If she ever found her grandfather, she was going to give him an earful.


End file.
